


The First Trace of Petrichor

by lireside



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Aerith Week 2021, Edge (Compilation of FFVII), F/F, F/M, Gold Saucer 2: Electric Boogaloo (in a sense), Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Post-Canon, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lireside/pseuds/lireside
Summary: They've always been something of a trio, Aerith realizes, though it takes months of them sharing her bed for her to come to that breathtaking conclusion. Was it really so bad? Loving both of them at once? As Aerith's friends and family hover around her, insisting she pick one or the other, she decides that the third option may be much better for everyone involved — if Cloud and Tifa agree to it, of course.For Aerith Week 2021, bonus day. Happy Valentine's Day!
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	The First Trace of Petrichor

Aerith had never slept so soundly in her life.

What had changed? Peacetime? That very well could've been it. Aerith had carried around her stresses for as long as she could remember — for as long as she'd been _alive_ , really, since her infant days had been wrought with just as much grief as her adulthood. Not a single day had gone by without a disruption of some sort (an interfering Turk, the screams of the Planet, an existential crisis), and her nights had been just as restless. It had taken twenty-two years and the destruction of Meteor for Aerith to relax, breathe, and enjoy her newfound contentment. 

... Still, that didn't seem right. There was something more to it than that.

Could it have been her new life in Edge? Maybe. Life in Edge wasn't perfect by any means, but Midgar's misplaced citizens were trying their best, and their new city was as cheerful as something of its kind could be. Aerith had finally built the flower shop of her dreams, and now had more money than she knew what to do with. Her new neighbourhood accepted her with opens arms, and Aerith found herself as busy as she had been in Sector 5. Surely, financial comfort and a busy social life helped one sleep at night. 

Even then, that didn't seem like the right answer.

Maybe it had something to do with her new bedfellows, who had been cuddling her and keeping her warm in the cool February nights.

The first thing Aerith felt that morning was a familiar warmth pressed against her back. A muscled arm, lightly dusted with freckles, was wound around her waist. Aerith smiled and sighed in contentment, ready to sink back into sleep — until she felt a tremor. The other body in her bed, pressed against her front, was shivering. 

Cloud must've stolen the comforter again.

"You gotta be kidding me," Aerith muttered. The comforter was bigger than the bed itself, and yet he'd managed to wrap the entire thing around himself. Aerith grabbed the edge of the comforter and tore it away from him until he was deprived of it entirely. Cloud instinctively tried to burrow into Aerith for warmth, but Aerith kicked him instead.

"I'm cold—"

"That's what you get for stealing the blanket." Aerith wrapped her arms around Tifa until she stopped shivering. "Thanks for keeping it warm for us, though."

"You're gonna give us hypothermia," Tifa grumbled.

"Is that how you treat the women you love?" 

"Sorry," Cloud muttered. He crawled out of bed, grabbed the nearest article of clothing, and threw it on. "I'm gonna make coffee."

They were nice and toasty now, but Aerith and Tifa got up and started getting ready for the day anyway. Neither of them felt like sticking around if Cloud wasn't there. 

It had been a year since Meteorfall, six months since they built their new home, and five-and-a-half months since they started sharing the same bed (Aerith's bed, technically, which was _just_ large enough to fit all three of them).

It was supposed to be a short-term arrangement. Cloud and Tifa had both been forced out of their rooms by unfortunate circumstance — Cloud's room had a draft, and Tifa's window had shattered in the middle of the night — but those problems had been fixed months ago. Nevertheless, they remained, and Aerith couldn't bring herself to force them back into their own spaces. She knew that she should, that whatever they were doing wasn't normal by anybody's standards, but she really didn't want to, and clearly, neither did they. 

Somehow, in that short amount of time, their lives had become so enmeshed that Aerith was no longer sure where she began and they ended. 

Tifa searched for something to wear and ended up with Cloud's old SOLDIER pants. Aerith did the same and ended up with one of Tifa's red sleeping shirts, which she tucked into a pink skirt. Cloud returned with three mugs of coffee, and they continued their routine in companionable silence. As Aerith sat down at her vanity, Cloud reached over her shoulder and borrowed her lip balm without asking. Tifa lurked behind Aerith and used Cloud's hair gel to smooth the flyaways in her hair. Aerith reached for Tifa's makeup case and pulled out one of her lipsticks, not caring that the colour wasn't meant for her complexion. 

How would they ever detangle their lives? Aerith truly had no idea.

They ventured downstairs and greeted Barret, who was counting stock behind the bar that took up the entirety of their first floor. His first comment of the day was usually lobbed at their mismatched fashion choices, but today he said nothing; they'd evidently managed to pick out something decent that day. That, or he was distracted watching Marlene as she made crafts at a nearby table. 

"Morning!" Marlene greeted them. She grabbed a heart-shaped chain, made out of pink construction paper, and stretched it out to show them. "Look!"

"Is that for your Valentine's Day party?" Tifa asked her.

"Mhmm," Marlene replied. "Daddy was helping me, but he gave up."

"Daddy ain't good with scissors." Barret hadn't quite gotten the hang of his new prosthetic. "What are you three doin' today?"

"Selling roses," Aerith said. 

"I'm gonna deliver those roses," Cloud said next.

"I'm gonna make record profits selling drinks to single people!" Tifa threw her fist in the air. "Bottomless mimosas!"  
  
Barret fixed them all with a frown. Clearly, that wasn't the answer he was expecting. "Shouldn't you three go out? You're too young to be caterin' to divorcées." 

"Too much money to be made," Tifa replied. 

"Sad people don't tip," Barret said. "Didn't you learn that lesson back in the original Seventh Heaven?"

"Oh! Oh!" Marlene jumped in her chair. "You should go to Donatello's!" 

"Donatello's?" Aerith asked. 

"That's where Becky's parents are going tonight. She said it's really romantic and they have really good spagooter—"

Aerith and Tifa shared a glance. Both of them silently debated on whether to tell Marlene — and Barret — that romantic dates usually involved _two_ people, not three. Aerith considered saying something, but Cloud beat her to it. "Spagooter?"

"Spagooter! With lots of cheese!" 

"Doesn't your store open in fifteen minutes?" Barret asked Aerith. 

Right. Aerith hastily grabbed her bag and Cloud's arm before dragging them both through the front door. "Have a good day!" Tifa called after them. 

After she and Cloud split up, the latter leaving to refuel his motorcycle, Aerith began the five-minute trek to her flower shop. The five of them — Aerith, Tifa and Cloud in one house (and bar), Barret and Marlene in another — had built their compound on a bustling street, perhaps the busiest in all of Edge, and Aerith had her pick of makeshift bakeries and sandwich stalls to grab her breakfast from. She stopped at one and bought three croissant sandwiches — one for breakfast, one for lunch, and one for Cloud when he came to pick up his first batch of bouquets. 

Aerith, being a young, outgoing business owner with plenty of charm, was very popular in the neighbourhood. So were Tifa and Cloud, partially due to the fact that the three of them were attached at the hip; everybody who knew Aerith knew them by extension, and their businesses bloomed as a result. The cashier gave Aerith a warm smile as she packaged the sandwiches. "So who are you taking out tonight?"

Aerith paused in counting her gil. "Sorry?"

"You know, your friends." The cashier gestured to the sandwich maker behind her. "We've been making bets all morning. The pretty girl or the hunky dude?"

Cloud? _Hunky?_ Aerith grimaced as she remembered the downside of her popularity — that the neighbourhood had become far too invested in her love life. She faked a non-committal shrug. "Oh, I don't know," she said lightly, "might just stay in."

"That's what I'm planning on doing too." The cashier handed her the sandwiches. "Have a good day!"

Unfortunately, the questions didn't stop with the cashier. As Aerith arrived at her shop and began taking inventory, pen in one hand and sandwich in the other, the first customer of the day arrived. She was one of Aerith's favourites — a kindly old woman who bought flowers for her husband, as he liked them much more than she did — but at the sight of her eager face, Aerith felt her fondness wane. "Weather's looking dreary today."

"They're not calling for rain, though," Aerith pointed out. "It's not all bad!"

She shrugged. "I suppose. Bad weather for a date, though."

"Um—"

"So what are your plans for tonight?"

"Not sure—" Aerith wracked her brain for answers and came up with the worst possible response. "Might go to that restaurant that just opened! The spaghetti one!"

"Oh, how wonderful! Who are you taking? I'd take your black-haired friend, personally." The woman's voice dropped to a whisper. "Much more my type. Don't tell her that, though."

Aerith hadn't been expecting that. "Um—"

"Men are useless. It took me decades to train Harold. You'd save yourself so much effort," the woman whispered, as if she were imparting wise wisdom. Aerith did her best to bolster that falsehood by nodding very intently and hiding her bafflement with a gentle smile. 

The woman handed her ten gil and took off, leaving Aerith dazed in her wake. Why was everybody making this into a competition? The question bit at her mind until Cloud arrived to grab his first delivery of the day.

"What's up?" he mumbled around his sandwich. "Customer piss you off?"

"Oh, nothing." As soon as he was finished, Aerith handed him an armful of bouquets. "Make sure you deliver Mr. Berry's order first."

After he left, the customers arrived in earnest, and Aerith became very good at dodging questions. Unfortunately, her lovely patrons seemed intent on sharing their opinions, even if she didn't ask for them.

"We just want to see you happy," one customer told her. "Which is why I think you should go for the dashing young man. His business is going places!"

"So is Tifa's!" Aerith argued back. "She's making a fortune today! Bottomless mimosas!"

"Bottomless?" The customer turned to her friend. "Maybe we should go there next."

The next customer required a box of tissues. "You need to be careful," she whispered, "I was in this exact same situation, and then my friends got together and I was left all alone—"

Aerith's jaw dropped. "I'm so sorry—" 

"—and then she _died_ , so very young, and then my friend and I started living together, we even adopted some kids, but he was still in love with her even though she was _dead_ and I was still here—"

Aerith opened another box and quickly wrote 'tissues' on her shopping list. By the time lunch came around, she was ready to snap. She'd made plenty of money from cliched bouquets, but at what cost? The next person to ask about her Valentine's Day plans was going to get strangled.

She knew just what to do. Aerith sprinted to her front door and flipped the 'open' sign closed. A visit to her mother's would surely stop her from murdering her customers. 

Elmyra's new house was a ten-minute walk from Aerith's flower shop. It wasn't as private and spacious as her old property in Sector 5, but that didn't seem to bother Elmyra any. After Meteorfall, they were all happy to be alive and eager to take what they could get. "I wasn't expecting you," Elmyra told her, as Aerith arrived with a new set of croissant sandwiches. "Where are Cloud and Tifa?"

Aerith couldn't remember the last time she'd visited her mother's house alone. Elmyra looked disappointed, as if Aerith had deprived her of visits with her other two children. "I'll bring them over tomorrow," she promised, before unwrapping the sandwiches and telling Elmyra all about her dreadful day.

"One customer spent ten minutes telling me why women are better than men, and another one—" Aerith sipped her tea and sighed. "Everybody keeps making a big deal about having to choose. Do I really have to choose?"

This wasn't just about tonight, but about every night that would follow it. Could they truly continue on like this? What if Tifa wanted to move on one day? What if Cloud did? What if they chose each other and left her all alone in her bed? The mere thought of it made tears prick in Aerith's eyes, and she hastily wiped them away with the back of her hand. 

For a brief moment, Elmyra looked speechless, as if her mind and her heart were travelling in two separate directions. Aerith felt a flash of guilt at bringing her troubles to her mother's doorstep — if Aerith herself couldn't find the answer, then surely Elmyra was just as lost. Elmyra took a long sip of tea and gently sat it down. "It's the way of things," she said slowly, "to—"

"Only date one person at a time?" Aerith muttered.

Elmyra gave her the faintest of nods. "You have to search for that answer yourself."

Aerith was silent for the rest of lunch. She finished her sandwich, drained her tea cup, and began the journey back to her flower shop with a heavy heart. 

As she walked, however, her thoughts gradually began to change. She glanced at the people who passed her in the street, many of whom she recognized as her customers. Why did their opinions matter? Since when did Aerith care about the 'way of things?' Why _should_ she choose?

And truthfully, she couldn't. It was impossible. She loved both Cloud and Tifa in equal measure, and leaving one of them in the dust would rip her soul in two. It just couldn't be done.

So what _could_ she do? 

Aerith hadn't realized she was running until she found herself in front of her flower shop, gasping for air, with a knot in her side. The front door had already been unlocked by Cloud, who waited inside for his next batch of bouquets. His eyes widened as she stumbled inside. "Are you okay?!"

"Never better," Aerith wheezed. She leaned against the door and clutched her chest as she tried to catch her breath. Cloud ran over and hovered in front of her, not knowing how to help her.

Aerith took one look at him and knew what she had to do. But would he agree to it? "We should go on a date tonight."

"Us?"

"Yeah."

He looked conflicted. "What about Tifa?"

"All three of us," Aerith said breathlessly. "All of us. On a date. Together. Let's do it."

* * *

"All three of us?"

Aerith nodded. "All three of us."

"On a date?"

"A proper date," Aerith insisted. "Like couples do."

"Aerith suggested the spaghetti place," Cloud said. 

Tifa chewed her lip as she thought it over. "Would they even have tables? That place must already be packed."

Aerith nearly leapt out of her skin in excitement. She thought Tifa might object to the idea, but she was only concerned about the logistics. "We'll make a contingency plan!" Aerith assured her. "If they don't have any tables, we'll go to a food stall. Get some takoyaki."

One of Seventh Heaven's customers turned to face them. "Does that mean we're gettin' booted out?"

"Sorry," Tifa said. "I'll have more bottomless mimosas tomorrow."

The customers grumbled and deposited their gil on the countertop. Tifa shoved it in her cash register without even bothering to count it. As soon as the till closed, she ran around the counter and grabbed Aerith's hand. "Come on," she rushed, dragging Aerith with her. "Let's get ready!"

They raced up the stairs, two steps at a time. Cloud dutifully followed them with all of the energy of a man governed by two purposeful women.

Aerith and Tifa didn't have much in the way of nice dresses, but they managed to put together something that passed for a proper date outfit. Aerith fished a cherry red sundress out of the back of her closet. Her hair, loosened from its usual braid, hung down her back. The only shoes she had were her boots, but that was fine. Nobody would be looking at her feet.

Tifa selected a black dress that looked like it might've actually been negligée, but Aerith certainly wasn't about to say anything. "Is this too much?" she asked.

Aerith vigorously shook her head. It took considerable effort to look at Tifa's face and not the rest of her. "It's perfect."

"I don't know what to wear," Cloud complained from their closet.

"Don't you have a button-up shirt or something?" Tifa asked him. 

"Yeah, but I haven't seen it since Cid's engagement party."   
  
"Look between my dresses," Aerith said. "I think I borrowed it a few days ago."

By the time he was finally dressed, Aerith and Tifa were ready to go. They waited in front of Aerith's bedroom door. As he came out of the adjoining bathroom, he finally saw their finished outfits, and he seemed lost for words. "You both look good," he finally said.

Tifa stared at the ground to try and hide her blush. Aerith simply smiled. "So do you." 

They shuffled down the steps, hand in hand, and made their way through town. The entire way there, Aerith felt like she was walking on air. The three of them had held hands while sleeping, or while dragging each other to and fro, but they'd never held hands while walking before. It was such a simple thing, but it made her heart soar nevertheless. "Maybe we can go see a show too," she chirped.

* * *

The spaghetti restaurant was perfect. The dim lighting, candles, and background music made for a very romantic atmosphere, and Aerith couldn't think of a better place in Edge to have their very first date. Tifa finally let go of their hands to wait in line for the host. "Do you have any tables for three?" she asked.

If the host thought anything of their trio, he made no mention of it. He simply looked at his table chart and turned around. "Follow me."

They sat down and ordered. The restaurant itself wasn't terribly fancy — paper plates, plain napkins, drinks served in plastic cups — but it was the best Edge could do in its current state. Donatello's was clearly trying to emulate a top-side restaurant, and everybody was more than happy to play along. Aerith had no problem sipping her cheap wine and acting as if it were from Rufus Shinra's personal collection. 

Aerith scanned the menu. It only had two items, which was standard for an Edge restaurant, so she picked the one everybody else seemed to be eating. "I'll have the spaghetti."

"Me too," Tifa said. "Cloud?"

He shrugged and handed his menu back to the waiter. The waiter took off and returned with three plates, sans parmesan, which he doled out with a long grater. Aerith blinked up at him and shot him her sweetest smile. "Can I get some extra?"

"So you twirl your pasta," Tifa instructed to Cloud, "like /this/." She neatly wound her pasta on her fork and scooped the tiny bite into her mouth.

Cloud's hand froze, inches away from his dinner knife. "Can't I just cut it?"

"We're on a date! You have to eat it right!"

The waiter finally pulled away, empty grater in hand. Aerith looked up from her massive pile of cheese. "Yeah, Cloud. Gentlemen don't cut their spaghetti."

"That's how I've always eaten it," Cloud argued, "and it's not like this place is really fancy."

Tifa shot him such a scalding look that even Aerith felt chastized. Cloud scowled and reluctantly began the arduous process of eating his pasta correctly. Aerith nudged Tifa with her foot. "Wouldn't it be easy to make this at home?"

"Yeah, it would be," Tifa murmured. "It's not exactly a complicated dish."

"That could be our next date," Aerith pitched.

"We could make garlic bread with the old bread in the pantry," Cloud said. "My mom used to make stuff like that." He lifted his plate up. "Does anybody want my meatballs?"

As Cloud doled them out, two to Aerith, two to Tifa, Aerith had the strongest feeling that this was what true love was like. 

It might've been the wine, or the low lighting, or the romantic music, but Cloud and Tifa both looked exceptionally lovely. The atmosphere seemed different somehow; even the most innocent of glances seemed to take on new meanings. Aerith quickly drained the rest of her wine, as if it would drown the butterflies in her stomach. "This is the first date I've ever been on," she admitted. "The first sit-down date, I mean."

Tifa rested her chin on her hand and smiled. "Is it everything you've ever dreamed of?"

Aerith met her eyes and nodded. She turned and gave Cloud the same purposeful look. "Absolutely."

* * *

Their next stop was Shiva Square: the home of Edge's first makeshift auditorium. An amateur theatre troupe was hosting a play, and the tickets were dirt cheap. Unfortunately, everybody in Edge had the same date ideas as them, and the auditorium was packed to the brim with couples. 

Cloud ran ahead to grab some seats for them. Aerith and Tifa followed behind at a leisurely pace. "This'll make up for the Gold Saucer," Aerith whispered to Tifa.

"You mean that time you two went on a date without me?" Tifa teased her. She had gotten over their little adventure a long time ago. "There's no gondola, so it's still not the same." 

Aerith pouted. "Doesn't the spaghetti make up for it?"

Tifa sighed. "I guess it'll suffice."

Cloud sat down first, then Aerith, then Tifa. As soon as they were seated, Aerith reached for both of their hands. To her surprise, neither of them pulled away.

Twenty minutes passed. They were well past the start time, and Cloud was starting to look antsy in his dress pants. "What's going on?" Tifa asked. Aerith shrugged.

They watched as a grey-haired man shuffled onto the stage — the first person they'd seen on stage all night. Everybody snapped to attention. He cleared his throat. "This is awkward," he muttered to himself, forgetting that the auditorium had perfect acoustics and everybody could hear him. "Do we have any seasoned actors in the crowd? We need three volunteers—"

Aerith stood up before he'd even finished his sentence. Cloud yelped as she nearly tore his arm out of its socket. "We have experience!" she yelled, even though she and Cloud had very little, and Tifa had none at all. "We can help!"

If Cloud and Tifa disagreed, they had no opportunity to object. The portly man glared at them as they ran backstage. He clearly wasn't happy with the sudden turn of events. "Thank you for stepping in," he said, as graciously as he could manage. "Our three leads went home with food poisoning."

Tifa gasped. "How awful!"

"They went to some silly restaurant that just opened." He pulled three scripts out of his coat pocket. "They left these behind. Pick whichever roles, I don't care."

"We'll do our best!" Aerith assured him. 

He sighed and shuffled away, as if he were carrying the reputation of Edge's amateur theatre scene on his shoulders. "This was supposed to be a serious production..."

They only had ten minutes to learn their lines, which was an impossible task, so they simply came to terms with the fact that they would be terrible and went off to get ready. Aerith and Tifa took up residence in the bathroom while Cloud threw his silly prince costume on over his clothes. Aerith came out first and started fixing her witch's hat in a nearby mirror. "Weren't you supposed to be the princess?" Cloud asked her.

"Tifa and I switched roles," Aerith explained. "I thought she might want to wear pink for once."

Tifa burst out of the washroom. The tulle dress, nearly as wide as it was long, scratched against the floor as she walked. "This looks ridiculous!" She vigorously scratched her hips. "And it's itchy!"

"Mine isn't any better, if it helps," Aerith said. The black fabric made her legs feel like they were on fire. 

"I look like a cupcake," Tifa groaned, "and not in a good way."

"The theatre guy says he'll give us coupons to the spaghetti restaurant if we do a good enough job," Aerith reminded them. "All we gotta do is get through a twenty-minute show."

"The place that gave those people food poisoning?" Cloud asked, suspicious. "The one we were just at?"

Tifa paused in her scratching. Years of running the bar on a slum budget had made her very thrifty. "I mean, _we're_ fine," she shrugged. "It can't be that bad."

"Maybe those actors just had weak stomachs," Aerith reasoned. 

The script was a standard fairytale story — a prince, a princess, true love, and a witch to muck it all up. The script was so similar to the play from the Gold Saucer that Aerith wondered if the portly man had plagiarized it. Aerith followed the opening narration on the script and realized that 'Galdia' had been scratched out and replaced with 'Aidlag'. 

The narrator turned and gestured at Cloud. "Oh, you must be the legendary hero, Prince Albert!"

Cloud didn't move an inch. Tifa gave him a shove and gasped as Cloud went sprawling on the ground. "Sorry!" she whispered. 

The crowd laughed, but Cloud picked himself up and continued on anyway. It only took considerable intervention from both Aerith and Tifa for him to remember his lines. 

"I'm here to save the princess!" Tifa mouthed.

Cloud cleared his throat and hoisted his foam sword in the air. "I'm... I'm here to save the princess!"

That was their cue. Tifa's train was so long that Aerith stepped on it and tripped; they both went tumbling to the ground, but managed to pick themselves back up just before clearing the curtain. Cloud's mouth thinned into a line as he tried to hold his laughter in. 

As soon as they made it to the center of the stage, Aerith froze. Tifa elbowed her. "I have the princess right here," she hissed.

"I have the princess right here!" Aerith grabbed Tifa around the middle and dragged her around a bit. "You'll never rescue her!"

The script was awful, but they tried their best. Aerith and Tifa slid off stage while Cloud stumbled through his lines with the knight. They then moved on to the 'legendary battle' at the bottom of a volcano, which mostly consisted of Aerith throwing rainbow streamers at Cloud and Cloud doing an awful job of dodging them. He eventually threw a streamer of his own, and Aerith dramatically fell to the ground. The witch's hat rolled off her head and came to a rest at the back of the stage.

They'd finally reached the climax of the story: saving the princess and leaving the witch to her doom. Aerith and Tifa both laid on the left side of the stage, feet away from each other, and waited for Cloud to approach them. He took one step towards Tifa and froze. 

Tifa waved her hand where the audience couldn't see. "Come here!" 

Finally, he began to walk again. He held his hand out for Tifa to take, as the script called for, and drew her up to her feet. He then walked over to Aerith and did the same for her.

Aerith breath caught in her throat. "What are you doing?"

"Rescuing you. Coming?"

She took it, not knowing what else to do, and followed along as he pulled them both off the stage. The gesture made her heart skip a beat, even if it was just a play. 

"It looks as if Prince Albert decided to save both the princess and the witch!" The narrator announced, improvising on the spot. "What a gallant fellow!"

"Let's bail," Cloud muttered. "This isn't worth the coupons."

They changed out of their hideous outfits as fast as they could. The washroom was taken, so they had no choice but to change behind a piece of scenery. The portly man, beet red in the face, waddled up to them as Aerith shoved her witch's robe between the scenery and the wall. Tifa, as polite as ever, was trying her best to fold the tulle monstrosity. At the sound of the portly man's voice, Aerith reached for the first piece of clothing she saw. Cloud, who was standing guard, clenched his fists.

"You _idiots_ —"

Just then, one of the stagehands ran up to them, saving Cloud the trouble of having to shove him back. The stagehand skidded to a stop in front of the portly man. "Sir, that was _brilliant_ —"

Aerith, Tifa and Cloud made their escape while the portly man was besieged by endless compliments for his progressive take on a new tale. They slipped out of the back door and sighed as they stepped out into the cool February air. It wasn't until then that Aerith realized she was wearing Tifa's black dress, and that it had quite a bit of extra fabric in the bust. She clutched the fabric in front of her chest and laughed out loud. "That was amazing!"

"That was the most fun I've had in months," Cloud admitted. 

"Never again, though."

"Never again," Tifa readily agreed. "That dress gave me a rash! And this dress—" She tried, in vain, to adjust it on her body. The fabric was so tight that it gave her no room to maneuver. "—How can you breathe in it?!"

"We'll just have to get you out of it," Aerith teased her. "Let's go home." 

They couldn't end the night with a gondola ride, but that suited Aerith just fine. Cloud offered his hand to Aerith, and she took it with a smile. A single drop of rain fell on their conjoined hands.

* * *

The sky, which had been overcast all day, began to pour in earnest. Nobody in Edge had been expecting it, and the screams of couples on romantic walks filled the air. Cloud, Aerith and Tifa broke out into a run, dodging the people that were searching for shelter. They were only a minute's run away from Seventh Heaven, but they were soaked to the bone by the time they reached the door. 

Rain filled Tifa's purse as she searched for her key. A rivet of water fell from the end of her ponytail. "One second—"

Aerith took that moment to step away from the door and feel the rain in earnest. Even in the cool February air, the water felt amazing on her skin. She stretched her arms out to the heavens and spun around. Living in Edge was the first time she'd lived under the open sky, and she took every opportunity she could to enjoy it.

Cloud wrung his shirt out with his hands. "Please tell me you didn't lose the key," he said, "we don't have a spare—"

Thunder rumbled in the distance. "Forget the key! We should dance!" Aerith sang. "The weather's perfect!"

"Where's your key?!" Tifa hissed at Cloud.

"Inside," he said. 

The sopping black silk flew in the air as Aerith spun around. "I could stay out here all night," she announced, even though she clearly couldn't — her fingers had long turned numb, and her limbs started shivering from the cold. Thankfully, Cloud and Tifa had more sense than she did, and Cloud came to grab her as Tifa finally wrenched the door open. He wrapped his arm around Aerith's waist, intent on dragging her inside, but Aerith had other plans. 

Aerith planted her feet in the ground and looked up at Cloud's face. His eyes, even in the dark, looked stunningly blue. She let her gaze linger until Tifa ran over to fetch them both. Aerith couldn't help but enjoy the sight — her red dress, soaked from the rain, hung to Tifa's every curve. She thought that would've scared Tifa off, since she certainly wasn't being subtle about it, but all Tifa did was grab her hand and tug her towards the door. "We need to go inside," she insisted.

The breathlessness of Tifa's voice, the quick glance she gave Aerith's wet dress and Cloud's near-transparent shirt, stirred something within her. Did they feel the same things she did? 

There was only one way to find out.

Pure adrenaline shot through every inch of Aerith's body. She had to take this chance. "I need to do something before we do." 

Before Tifa could object, Aerith reached forward and grabbed the front of her dress and pulled her into a kiss. 

Aerith kissed her with everything she had, with desperation coursing through her veins. She was sure she'd gone too far, that Tifa was seconds away from shoving her away, but Tifa kissed her back until Aerith was gasping for air. There was nothing delicate about the kiss; it had been spurned by months of built-up tension, and Aerith showed her yearning with the hands that grasped at Tifa's soaking dress. Cloud's arm was still wound around Aerith's waist, tight and possessive, and Aerith blindly reached for him. As she finally pulled back and opened her eyes, she saw that Tifa had done the same. 

The look that Cloud gave them was full of need. Aerith's breath caught in her throat as she realized just how much he wanted them both. They both turned to him, intent on including him, but he had other ideas. "Inside," he insisted, before grabbing them and dragging them towards the door. 

They left puddles on the floor as they ran up the stairs. Soon, they stood facing each other, water dripping from their hair, clothes clinging to their skin. "We're gonna catch a cold," Cloud said in a low voice. "We should—"

The words _get changed_ hung in the air, but that's not what they intended to do at all. Their clothes may have been about to come off, but they definitely weren't going back on for quite some time. 

They each reached for their own soaking garments first. Aerith was seconds away from dropping her own dress, until she saw Tifa struggling to pull hers over her head. Cloud and Aerith stepped forward, in tandem, and helped her yank it off. Their hands grew more frantic after that; Aerith reached for Cloud's shirt next, while Tifa hastily shoved the straps of Aerith's black dress down her shoulders. 

As soon as their clothes were gone, Aerith turned to Cloud. "I think we owe you a kiss," she whispered.

They may have been freezing, but they warmed each other up just fine. In the midst of bliss, filled with sighs, moans and wandering hands, Aerith knew she had made the right choice after all.

* * *

In the early hours of the morning, long after they'd tumbled into bed, Aerith found herself staring at the ceiling. Neither of her companions were sleeping either. She turned to look at Cloud, then Tifa, making sure she had their attention.

Aerith had always been afraid of asking this question, for fear that it would bring them to their senses. Now, however, she knew they weren't going anywhere. "Why did you two start sleeping here?"

The usual excuses — drafts, broken windows, too much sunlight — went out the window as Tifa reached underneath the comforter. Her hand came to rest on Aerith's bare torso, just above her navel, where a three-inch scar laid. Cloud did the same, and the combined heat and pressure from their hands felt more healing than the spells that had saved her life.

Aerith had never been more happy to be alive. 

She smiled, lifted their hands up, and pressed a kiss to each of their palms. In Cloud's embrace, with Tifa's hands in her own, Aerith fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

A day ago, Aerith was beside herself trying to figure out what to do — with them, with _this_ , as if her life depended on on making the right choice. She couldn't be greedy, they said. She couldn't have them both.

All it had taken was following her heart. Her intuition, as always, had led her in the right direction. She would've missed out on so much. 

She would've missed out on _this_.

The golden light from the rising sun dripped over their bodies like honey. The scent of earth, wet from the rain, filled the room through a crack in the window. In all of her life, Aerith had never experienced such a perfect moment.

Tifa's sleepy smile was so cute that Aerith couldn't help but kiss her. Tifa slowly drew away and sighed as Cloud leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Are we dating now?" she whispered. "The three of us?"

The smile that slowly spread across Aerith's face was as bright as the sun outside. The morning was like any other, really; spent together in each other's arms, breathing the same air, hogging the same blankets. The only difference was the lack of clothing. "Weren't we always?"

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this silly little thing while working on some larger projects. I love Aerith too much to resist the allure of Aerith Week. If you liked it, please comment below! Your words give me life.


End file.
